The Poetic Marauders
by unp
Summary: It started with an awful but earnest love poem James wrote, was followed by a cruel prank and resulted in a cursed Marauder. A humorous short story set in the Marauders' generation, where James, Sirius, Remus, Peter and Snape all try their hand at poetry!


Disclaimer: All characters depicted in this story are fictional. Tragically, this means they can't actually write abysmal-but-well-intentioned poetry, eat breakfast, or stuff cold things down people's pants- all great joys that live beings seem to take for granted. I can't make you believe that I exist either, but J. K. Rowling does, and is in fact the marvellous creator of all these characters. Sadly, the poetry is mine, except for a brief quote from William Blake. You'll spot it.

THE POETIC MARAUDERS

James glanced yet again at the calendar pinned to the common room notice board. Some idiot had outlined the 14th of February with a big animated red heart. It was well past midnight and, painfully, he read the piece of parchment in front of him.

If you were to be my Valentine

I'll try hard to have you impressed.

Keep my manners just divine,

And bad jokes strongly repressed.

-

For a benign glance of your green eyes

I'd gleefully battle a chimera or two.

Your smile makes me soar the skies

And want to be better than I am for you.

-

At your word I'll drop all I have and know,

Undergo a painful mischief-removal.

And all my dungbombs I'll gladly throw,

If that will earn me your approval.

-

Trust me, my redemption is not a sham.

My idiocy quota has maxed out for life.

Say yes and I'll be the world's happiest man,

For you alone make my day worthwhile.

For a while he'd been trying to think of a passable metaphor about red hair, but all inspiration shrivelled up as he suddenly felt intensely embarrassed of what he had written. Somehow it seemed less romantic and funny and more pathetic and drab than he had thought whilst he'd been concentrating on the rhyming. He was _begging_. Somehow he felt Lily Evans would not find that alluring. He needed to be witty, bold, charming. James Potter at his utmost. James Potter was the height of cool, a Gryffindor Chaser. James Potter could get a date whenever he wanted and did not need to beg for one, much less in the form of lame poetry. He _did _need to stop thinking of himself in third person, though.

He determinedly crushed the parchment and threw it at the expectant wastepaper basket, which was already hiccupping happily after three hours of James' work. However, a whispered spellword and its newest morsel veered off its course into the hands of Sirius Black. A wicked grin split Sirius' face as he read through it.

"Prongs!" James raised his head from the desk, startled. "Surely you weren't about bin such a masterpiece?"

"Pads," James began, in a casual tone betrayed by his flushed cheeks, "tomorrow is Valentine's day; I was just getting into the spirit of the occasion, trying something out. You can give it back now."

"And allow you to rob the world of a tribute of this calibre to Love, to the English Language, to Your Genius?"

"Sirius," pleaded James, dropping all pretences, "It's rubbish. That's not me at all. I don't want the world to think that I'm such a hopeless sap."

Sirius smiled sympathetically.

"Mate, I'll give it back on one condition."

"What?"

"That you've thought of a better way to ask Evans out tomorrow."

"Pads. I've tried my Charming Self. That didn't work. I've tried flowers. How could I've known she was allergic? Now poetry... and I'm no good at that. Maybe I should just leave her alone, for once."

"Are you hearing yourself? Who are you and who fixed my best friend's face on you, you poor thing? Tell you what. I'm sending this poem to Evans."

"You wouldn't dare."

"I bet she'll fall for it and you'll be kissing my feet next. If not, -ah well!- nothing will have change- HEY!"

Sirius waved his own wand and managed to grab the parchment again. Before James could hurl another hex, Sirius tapped the paper and it disappeared to safety. James put his wand down.

"Sorry! I was desperate! Sirius, I beg you. That has got to be the worst one I've written. It's not even finished. Please, I'll write another one!"

"Nope. Not at this time you won't. You can't even aim your wand properly. Believe me, you'll thank me for this." Sirius walked up the stairs to the dormitory. "If you try anything funny during the night, _I'll_ be putting on the finishing touches. And Prongs?" Sirius treated James to a dog-like grin. "You were wrong. It's got You written all over it. Who else could work the word 'dung' into a love poem?"

James stood and fumed for a whole minute after Sirius left. Then, he calmly sat at the desk again and took out a new piece of parchment. Maybe it was a bad time to write a decent love poem for Lily; there probably never would be a good time. But for plotting revenge... ah, when is it _not _the perfect time?

---

Severus Snape's waking thoughts turned dark and brooding as he remembered who and where he was. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with one hand and slipped his hand under his pillow for his wand with another, and was surprised by the rough feel of parchment. He pulled the folded parchment out sleepily and was shocked into full consciousness when he realised it said "HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!" In a panic, he looked around to make sure the curtains were firmly drawn around his bed. Making a mental note to murder the house-elf who had delivered it, he began to read what seemed to be a poem.

For too long I have tried to block it out,

But it has to stop lest I go insane.

I wonder if by now you've smelt it out;

Your power over me can't be contained.

-

I dream of you at all times, in every place

The bitter reality my love defies.

So enthrallingly serious your face!

So enchantingly black your eyes!

At first he felt profoundly disgusted, or at least tried to, but then he couldn't help making a mental list of all the girls he knew, wondering which one might harbour such passionate, secret feelings for him. The few seconds he spent doing this were possibly the most enjoyable and most foolish of all his time at Hogwarts. Then, as he re-read the poem, his insides turned to lead. _So enthrallingly serious... so enchantingly black_? The next few seconds were possibly the ones in which he experienced more rage and shame of all his time at Hogwarts, although this is harder to confirm.

Severus wrenched the curtains of his bed apart and threw the poem into the furnace. _Smelt it out..._ As he watched it burn, he mentally crossed out all of the people, creatures and ghosts he had sworn to kill one day, except for one; Sirius Black deserved his undivided aggression.

---

James blinked blearily at his toast. He was too sleepy and too anxious to eat. He hadn't seen Sirius, Lily or Snape the whole morning. Had Lily received the poem, untampered? Last night the thought had horrified him, but now he wasn't too sure. Had he really meant to send Lily a poem of any sort? He had the idea, and started on it straight away, because that is what James Potter did. But maybe all he wanted was to write it, get all those feelings off his chest. Maybe Lily _would _appreciate the honesty. Maybe Sirius _was _doing him a favour. He wondered if Snape had found the note under his pillow yet and tried to picture his face when he figured out that Sirius was apparently in love with him.

"Smiling to yourself, writing poetry... looks like you are finally losing it, Potter," said a a voice too sweet to be is own, but could have been. His heart twanged as Lily Evans sat opposite him. For a while, James simply stared and realised he ought to say something, and that to do so he needed to start breathing again.

"G-good morning, Evans... Um, so you-er... How's your rash?"

Stupid bloody idiotic git.

"From yesterday's flowers? Madame Pomfrey solved that for me at once, no worries."

"Oh, great. Sorry about that, I-I-"

"-didn't know. I know. It's alright, you meant well."

"Erm, yeah..."

"Like with that poem this morning. Don't," she said, raising her hand to stop James' stuttering, "I know it was you. Only you could talk about dungbombs in a Valentine's Day poem."

James steeled himself. _Out with it!_

"So... what do you say? Will you go out with me?"

Lily sighed. Something in James withered.

"I loved your poem," she said, smiling. "It was very sweet. It probably took you hours."

"Yes, it did," James admitted, heartened.

"However, like I tried to tell you yesterday before I inhaled all that pollen, I already have a date. And even if I didn't..."

"Lily?"

"James, it's no good just _saying _how you'll become a model of behaviour when_ nothing's changed_. A couple of first years just told me in the Common Room that Snape is after Sirius Black's blood."

James widened his eyes in horror.

"Oh, no..."

Lily's stood up and looked at James hardly.

"What have you two done to him now? When will you grow up and leave him alone? No," she said, raising her hand again. "No more excuses. About time you left me alone too, Potter."

James watched her leave and then set off to find Snape. He would explain that the poem was his idea and would suffer the consequences. _Change begins now_. He only hoped he would find Snape before Snape found Sirius.

---

Sirius found it hard to keep a straight face as he set off towards Gryffindor Tower. He had just returned from Hogsmeade, where he had diligently planted dungbombs underneath every table in Madame Puddifoot's, all timed to set off in the afternoon. It may be cruel to ruin the teashop and lot of innocent dates just to infuriate his cousin Bellatrix, but in Sirius' mind any person who entered that vile place voluntarily deserved the worst of punishments. Moreover, he and James had long campaigned against the Cherub Lair, with all its glittery, phoney horror, and everybody he cared about must have heeded their wise words. Hence, it was a smiling, carefree Sirius that Severus Snape encountered in the hallway.

Severus spoke before Sirius could:

"In the morning glad I see

My foe outstretch'd beneath the tree."

Before Sirius said anything to that bewildering pronouncement, Snape pointed his wand at Sirius' throat and spat: "Try to rhyme yourself out of this one!"

A silver flash, and Sirius crumpled.

---

"I did that!" said Peter Pettigrew proudly, pointing at the flashing heart on the calendar.

"That's a neat spell," replied Remus Lupin. It actually was a very simple spell, he thought as he stared into the Common Room fire, but he found it important to encourage Peter's imagination. He wondered if he was being condescending, but as he watched Peter happily fastening a ribbon on a bouquet of flowers for his date that afternoon, Remus realised that he didn't honestly think he was better than Peter, at all.

"So, big plans for this afternoon?" Remus asked.

"Ah well, I thought of taking her for a walk in Hogsmeade, that's all... maybe go to Puddifoot's for tea," Peter finished with a whisper.

Remus raised an eyebrow amusedly.

"I thought-"

"I know we made a Pact," Peter muttered anxiously, "but the Three Broomsticks is too loud and, well, I think she'd prefer Puddifoot's. You won't tell them, right?"

"Of course not," Remus laughed. "Don't you trust me?" _Sometimes I truly wonder._

All of a sudden, Sirius Black burst into the room. Even in normal circumstances, this would attract a lot of attention, so it's not surprising that every single face ogled at the newcomer, transfixed, as he yelled, panicked:

"_Moony! Wormtail! Friends, I'm not well!_

"_Snivellus hit me with a weird spell!_

"_Ever since I was cursed, _

"_I've been speaking in verse,_

"_I can't stop, and feel thirsty like Hell!_"

The Common Room exploded in cheers and laughter.

"It's just a jinx," Remus shouted over the din. "You've no idea of the counter-jinx?"

"_What do reckon, you dumb ape?;_"Sirius replied angrily.

"_If so, would I be in this shape? _

"_The Infirmary I reject, _

"_The Library we'll inspect_

"_And end this shame... Damn that foul Snape!_"

With that, the trio departed amidst shouts of "Say something else, Sirius!". Once in the hallway, Peter asked Sirius what he had done to provoke Snape. Pressing his lips together to avoid spewing doggerel, Sirius shrugged.

---

James had already spent a while prowling the dungeons to catch Snape near the Slytherin Common Room. He decided to abandon this approach since the area was swarming with Slytherins that knew James all to well, and would jump at the chance to corner him on this own. He decided it would be easier to find Sirius and warn him to steer clear from Snape, and set off towards Gryffindor Tower.

---

Peter checked the clock in the Library. He was supposed to have met his date at Hogsmeade twenty minutes ago, but there was no way he could abandon Sirius in this state... could he? He wondered whether Sirius and Remus really needed him. Maybe it had to do with the hours spent ploughing through books on unusual jinxes with Sirius rhyme-swearing endlessly; that was enough to drive anyone to question their life's meaning. Peter was having one of those moments in which he felt... was _expendable _the word? He pushed these thoughts aside and continued to look through the index of the book before him. He had a feeling he had already looked at this one before.

"Got it," Remus announced triumphantly.

"_The relief that floods me_..."

"Stop it."

"_Is enough to make me p-_MMPF!" Peter removed one of his hands from Sirius' mouth and gave Remus the thumbs-up sign.

"Thanks. Listen: 'To cast this jinx, merely an English incantation is warranted, in the form of verse, but will make the victim speak in Limericks for the rest of their life' -wait, Sirius, RELAX!- 'until someone interrupts the victim with a limerick of their own spontaneous invention. Employed famously for the first time in the year...' O.K., nobody cares about that. So all we have to do is make up a limerick whilst Sirius is at it. Simple enough."

Remus and Peter stared at each other.

"You start," Peter said at once.

"O.K.-um." Remus rolled his sleeves up unnecessarily. "Sirius, you're going to have to start, so that we can interrupt you. Slowly, O.K.?"

Sirius nodded.

"_One day it heavily rained_,"

"There was a chap who was such bore..." Remus began hesitantly.

"His friends couldn't stand him anymore," whined Peter.

"_I slipped and my ankle sprained_."

"Erm-" Remus flapped his hands helplessly.

"_The pain was nettling,"_

"TOLD POETRY TO HIS MATES AND RUINED THEIR DATES..." Peter burst out.

"_The angle unsettling,_"

"...BY MAKING THEIR GIRLFRIENDS SNORE!"

"Silence!" someone hissed from behind them. The boys spun around to find themselves face-to-face with Madame Pince, eyes bulging, teeth bared, a seething two feet taller than in her normal state. "Shouting will not be tolerated in My Library! Out with you!" They nodded dumbly and complied.

At the entrance, Remus whispered to Sirius:

"Did it work?"

Sirius was silent for a few seconds, and then whispered back:

"Let's see. I hate poetry. I like Quidditch. I'm going to kill Snape. None of that rhymed, did it?" Once they were outside, he spoke normally. "Thanks alot, mates. Sorry for all the trouble. Especially you, Peter." Without warning, Sirius gave Peter a quick hug. "You quit a date to help me; Marauder spirit at its purest!"

"Yeah, and he saved that limerick," Remus put in. "I really choked back there," he finished bemusedly.

All of a sudden, James appeared in front of them. He was pale and out of breath.

"Are you alright?" he asked, grabbing Sirius' shoulders. "I just heard what happened in the Common Room."

"Yeah, everything's fine now. Prongs, listen, we have major Snivellus-bashing to do!"

"Um- yeah... about that..."

---

It had turned out to be a raucous evening at the Common Room. Those who had gone to Hogsmeade returned laughing about the Madame Puddifoot's fiasco. Poor Peter got slapped by his date, who had unfortunately been waiting for him at the teashop when the dungbombs had gone off. To James' utter ecstasy, Lily's date had taken her there too. Those who had stayed behind discussed the scene Sirius had made by first speaking in limericks and then by pouring pumpkin juice in James' pants. Sirius and James could not stay angry at each other, and were happy to describe the day's events in detail for those who had missed the fun.

Remus participated in the evening's excitement for a while, but crept into the dormitory early. It would be a full moon in a couple of nights, and he was starting to feel the familiar tug in his joints. He sat on his bed and looked accusingly at the Moon that shone magically outside the window. It was beautiful, alright; who didn't find the Moon beautiful? And yet, he couldn't stand looking at it for long.

He then decided to try something he'd never done before. He took out a quill, a bottle of ink and a piece of parchment and began to write:

At times I become deluded,

Fall in the trap of forgetfulness.

The smell of the beast,

The sense of animal abandon,

Pushed to the back of my mind,

Unreal as a nightmare.

-

Pretend there's no trace of the monster within me,

Watch it prowl its glass cage detachedly.

If only you weren't there to shatter the illusion,

Daring to flaunt your ghostly face in the daylight,

Unsatisfied by tormenting my vision at night

When I close my eyes.

-

Here I am, the unwilling slave to your call,

My skin tenses, my joints stiffen,

Teeth clenched to stop the fangs pushing through.

I feel you pulling at, pushing down on, dizzying me,

Lovingly torturing me till I'm no longer man,

But frightened beast.

-

Normal poets write ballads praising your beauty,

Whilst I recall the revulsion and fear you instil.

I avoid looking up, only to find

Your white light reflected in my glass.

My heart thumps wildly; I look away.

I daren't drink.

-

I fear you without bearing to hate you.

It would be so easy to do it freely.

Scorn you as a symbol of my pain,

If only the dichotomy truly existed.

But I can't hate you without hating that part of me,

Which would be stupid.

He re-read what he had written for a few minutes. Then, resolutely, he threw it into the furnace and closed the curtains around him. _I just needed to get it off my chest. _

That night, he slept well.

fin

A/N: Take a leaf out of the Marauders' (and my) book. Even if you just do it for yourself, write! No matter how much one sucks!


End file.
